The Total TeleVision Holiday Special!
by UnderdogFan1254
Summary: You've heard of The Tree Trimmers, now get ready for… the rest of the Total TeleVision Gang getting their very own Holiday Specials! Featuring classics such as Underdog, Tennessee Tuxedo, The King & Odie, and several other friends! / AUs
1. The King & Odie

Biggie and Itchy didn't celebrate Christmas. Or any winter holiday, really. They didn't feel the need to. It's not like they could afford it. Itchy, however, tried to keep the spirit alive.

Bongo Congo usually disagreed with him.

For two years in a row, Itchy had tried to craft a fire to roast chestnuts on. The first year, the rain stopped him before he could really start. The second, Itchy _had_ built the fire, but a pair of birds had stolen the chestnuts. _Then _the rain came.

But Itchy did not give up hope.

"Building another fire, Itchy?" asked Biggie from the doorway to their back porch.

It sure looked like it. Itchy had a bundle of sticks, a handful or two of ferns and a stolen roll of tape all on top of the only table in their home. All of them were soaking wet, though, so Itchy shook his head.

"I'm, like, building a tree," he replied.

"Alright, Charlie Brown," chuckled Biggie before leaving Itchy alone on the porch.

Itchy got to work. He taped the sticks to eachother and the ferns haphazardly to the sticks sides. It did not stand up, and the tape did not stick. The ferns wilted right down. But Itchy liked it well enough.

It was sunset when Itchy had started; and now it was night, with swirling, dark clouds. Another storm was coming.

Just as Itchy stood up to appreciate the tree, a lone starling landed on the table. The bird admired Itchy's work a moment, then grabbed the top stick in its beak. Without much resistance, it carelessly flew away with half of Itchy's project.

Completely defeated after that, Itchy sighed and padded back into his and Biggie's hideout. Biggie sat on their half-torn couch reading a half-torn book. Without a word, Itchy slunk into his lap and covered his face in his arms.

Biggie closed his book and rubbed the lion's back. "Didn't work, did it?"

Itchy shook his head and remained silent. Biggie frowned, disheartened to see his partner so upset. Then the rat brightened and snapped. He shook Itchy.

"I've got an idea!" he exclaimed. Itchy looked up at Biggie, his eyes watery. "Let's break into the castle garden. We can steal a _proper _tree there."

"In this weather?" Itchy replied, voice downcast. "And, like, where would we put it anyway?"

"We could get a sapling," Biggie answered.

Itchy leaned up, his eyes sparkling the slightest bit, but his voice was still downcast. "...we can try."

And so, the two headed off in the direction of King Leonardo's castle. Stealing some axes and rope from a local store along the way, the two were soon hopping over the high castle wall.

The sky grew darker, and thunder rolled distantly. Quickly, their mission became a race against the clock. Biggie and Itchy split up, searching the King's garden for any sign of saplings. Or, really, any tree whatever.

Just a few minutes later, Biggie and Itchy met up with eachother once more in the center of the garden. They shook their heads at eachother before Itchy hung his own disappointedly. Suddenly, lightning split the sky and rain started to pelt down. Biggie shook and Itchy shivered, but it did neither of them any good. Upset and saddened, the twosome headed for the castle wall once more.

Soon after that, a bright light covered both of their backs and stopped the two in their tracks. Biggie grabbed onto his axe tighter as Itchy quickly whirled around.

"Biggie and Itchy!" came a very recognizable, half-English voice. Odie Cologne's, of course, though his figure was merely a black blob in the nightly rain. "I should've known!"

"Oh, you're shivering!" commented the King. He and Odie stood under an umbrella, with Leonardo managing to pull Odie closer to the villains by tugging on its stem. Biggie turned himself around as the royal nuisances neared.

Neither the King nor Odie tried to grab Biggie or Itchy, though. Instead, Leonardo offered an extra umbrella to Biggie. He glanced up to the golden lion's face, just a bit more visible now.

King Leonardo looked genuine. Odie looked pissed. As expected. His hand shaking, Biggie unlocked one hand's grip from his axe handle and grabbed the umbrella. He unfurled it quickly and covered himself and his partner.

Itchy shook himself properly as soon as he had cover from the storm. Biggie a scrunched his nose in disgust, and smacked his partner's forearm in reply.

"Why don't you come inside?" King Leonardo invited. "The Royal Chefs are preparing a Christmas dinner. I'm sure there will be enough for you two to take part."

"_What?" _asked Odie, "Are you… sure, sire?"

"Yes," Leonardo answered curtly. "They're family, Odie. Itchy is my brother."

The lion then took the umbrella from Odie's hand. He quickly turned on his heel and headed back toward the castle. Odie, not wanting to be left in the rain, rushed after. Biggie and Itchy stood out a moment more. Then Itchy's muzzle cracked with a smile. He tugged the shaft of their umbrella and hauled himself and his partner into the castle.

King Leonardo had sent Odie away swiftly so he could speak to Biggie and Itchy alone. "I have some gifts for you, too!" he chirped.

"You do?" Biggie replied, shocked.

Itchy perked up and leaned forward. "Like, what is it, bro?"

Leonardo tensed up and took a small step back. "A flea bath," he replied tensely and quickly. "And I'd like for you to go ahead and take that now."

Both Biggie and Itchy _beamed. _

"...yes," Leonardo commented, awkwardly smiling himself. He started to pad away from the twosome, but soon stopped glanced over his shoulder. "Oh," he exclaimed, "And, uh, merry Christmas."

Itchy chiperly replied, "Merry Christmas, bro!" Then, he nudged Biggie's side with his elbow, still smiling stupidly.

Biggie cleared his throat and laughed awkwardly, trying his hardest to not let the happiness he felt overwhelm him.

"Uh, yeah. Merry Christmas to you too, Kingsy."


	2. Tooter Turtle

Tooter gingerly pulled a short toboggan through the snow-covered woods. He was bundled up tightly in an attempt to retain any sort of warmth in the bitter cold. The sled held several small-to-medium sized boxes, all wrapped in bright red and greens. Eventually, the turtle boy had found his way to Mr. Wizard the lizard's boxy little cottage home.

Tooter knocked on the door. Mr. Wizard swiftly answered it.

"My, my," mused Mr. Wizard, his eyes flickering over the sled Tooter dragged inside his home. "What do you wish to be today, my boy? Santa Claus? The mailboy?"

Tooter chuckled. "No, Mr. Wizard! I'm just here for a visit."

Mr. Wizard flushed, stepping around the sled to close his door. "_Wunderbar, _Tooter. Thank you."

"And that's not all, Mr. Wizard!" Tooter went on. He stepped to the side of his sled and sat on the ground. Mr. Wizard soon joined him. Tooter slid one thin box into his legs, fluffed up the bow, then handed it to Mr. Wizard. "These are for you."

Mr. Wizard cringed back a small bit. "Oh, Tooter," the lizard chuckled, "I don't celebrate Christmas."

"Oh, no, no, no!" Tooter replied, "They're not Christmas presents, they're, uh, Yule presents!"

Mr. Wizard blushed a deeper shade. He laughed a bit and smiled, graciously grabbing the gift from Tooter. "My boy, my boy… thank you."

The lizard delicately pulled off the bow atop the green gift. Flipping it over to find the wrapper's seam, he proceeded to tear the paper off as gently as he could. Inside the metallic paper was a white box.

Mr. Wizard wedged his fingers into the sides and pulled up the smaller box. Inside was a black circle.

"Flip it over," Tooter instructed, beaming.

Mr. Wizard did. On the other side was a photoesque crescent moon.

"Oh, Tooter!" the lizard cooed. "It's great."

"That's not all, Mr. Wizard!" Tooter said. He leaned forward and, with a small _click, _the crescent lit up in Christmas White. Mr. Wizard squinted against the light, though soon he adjusted and truly admired the gift.

"It's wonderful, Tooter," he stated, flipping it over and shutting it off. "I love it."

The process continued. Tooter passed a gift to Mr. Wizard, who gently opened the parcel.

"Tea!" Mr. Wizard chirped excitedly.

"Yeah!" Tooter agreed.

Mr. Wizard looked over the packaging. It was three long boxes, decorated in blue and orange; blue and green; and blue and dark pink respectively. One read _Ginger; _another read _Sage; _and the third read _Raspberry._

Tooter clearly realized that Mr. Wizard had read the flavors. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and said, "I tried to find, uh, rose tea because that's your favorite, but I, uh, couldn't."

"That's alright, my boy," Mr. Wizard consoled. He placed the boxes atop the moon light. "I like all teas."

Tooter nodded, now unbothered, and the cycle continued. He grabbed the thinnest, softest parcel on the sled. Mr. Wizard opened it and found something nearly the same color as his scales. It was a bit greener and darker, though, and a few light-colored, sharp-edged leaves were printed on golden stems.

Tooter reached forward and grabbed two ends. He gave it a hard shake. The soft square unfurled into a big, reusable bag. Mr. Wizard smiled and nodded. He grabbed the bag from Tooter and put that on the pile as well.

Tooter handed Mr. Wizard two small gifts next. Inside one was a rosy pink crystal, and the other was a yellow-and-white stone.

"Crystals," Mr. Wizard noted, turning them various ways and looked them over.

"Yeah," Tooter agreed, "And I, uh, looked up their facts too!"

Mr. Wizard nodded and hummed for him to continue. Tooter shifted to sit on his feet. He pointed at the pink crystal.

"That's a, uh, rose quartz," he explained, "And it means, um, love and friendship stuff."

"That's right," Mr. Wizard chuckled. He set the rose quartz atop the bag, and held the yellow stone between his hands. "And this is?"

"That's a citrine!" Tooter exclaimed, "They, uh, they help with concentration and memory."

"Perfect, my boy!" Mr. Wizard laughed excitedly. He beamed, and Tooter smiled back.

Mr. Wizard wiped his eye and calmed down as Tooter gave him his last gift.

Inside was a stack of three small, one-wicked candles: lemongrass, lavender and orange blossom.

"Oh," Mr. Wizard smiled. "I love these."

"I found out about these ones, too." Tooter stated. "Um, orange blossom helps with happiness, and, uh, lavender is calming. Lemongrass is, um, it's an anxiety helper. I think…"

Mr. Wizard smiled proudly. "Yes, my boy, that's right."

He quietly set the candles down in his pile. The lizard gazed at the gifts and the paper a long while. Eventually he slapped his legs and faced Tooter once more.

"Now tell me, my boy," he started, "What made you want to buy gifts for me, hmm?"

Tooter chuckled, cleared his throat, and rubbed his neck again. "Well, uh, y'know. I just, um, feel like I use you a lot, and, um, I just, uh, wanted you to know that I, uh, care for you. Alot. And that I, um, love you."

Mr. Wizard flushed, giggled and smiled. He extended his arms wide. Tooter crashed into them, wrapping his own arms around the lizard. Mr. Wizard laughed and hummed a bit.

"You're so kind, Tooter. I love you too, my boy."


	3. The Hunter

a/n: fuck spelling his name as "horrors" and "horace", "horris" is where its at fuck you.

also, finn = flim flanagan

* * *

The Hunter had fallen ill that winter. He was pretty upset about not being able to work during the Holiday Season (Lord knows The Fox would probably try something during the time), but Finn and Horris were very glad to have him chained down for Christmas.

The downside was that, every year, Hunter made the majority of the Christmas dinner. He had very Southern recipes, nothing anyone could buy in New York City. Hunter _had _shared the recipes with Horris. But that did not mean Horris remembered.

As Hunter was taking a nap, Finn and Horris got to work planning the evening.

"We're gonna have one Irish Christmas this year," laughed Finn to himself.

"We gotta make _one _Sourthern thing," Horris argued. He turned on his phone and typed something in. "I found a recipe for pecan pie that looks like the one Unc always makes."

"Alright," Finn agreed, putting on his coat. "Let's make some things we can freeze first, though."

Horris followed suit. "Yeah, what're we making anyway?"

"Ham, roasted potatoes, cranberry sauce, whatever you got," Finn answered.

Horris excitedly bounced up and down. "Can we make deviled eggs?" he asked quickly. Finn nodded.

As they headed out, Finn started to list ingredients they would need. Horris typed everything into his phone.

They returned to the apartment soon enough, carrying several paper bags in their arms. Finn checked in on Hunter while Horris unpackaged the parcels. Horris stole the eggs, mayonnaise and mustard and placed them on the opposite counter, leaving his step-uncle to make the main courses.

A little while later, with the confident dishes made and the ham in the oven, Horris and Finn awkwardly looked at eachother.

"Pecan pie?" Horris asked quietly.

"Pecan pie," Finn agreed in a whisper. "What do we need?" he asked, squatting down to grab two bowls out from under the sink.

Horris typed into his phone and read the ingredients out loud. The two of them soon covered the counter in packages of flour, salt, butter, eggs, pecans, corn syrup, sugar, and vanilla.

"Okay!" Finn chriped, wiping his hands on a scratchy towel. "Now what?"

Horris balanced his phone against the wall. "Sift the flour and salt into a bowl," he read. "Okay, where's the sifter?"

"_Sieve," _Finn corrected, grabbing it from a wall over the oven. Horris blew a raspberry. "How much?" Finn went on, balancing the sieve on the plastic bowl.

"Two cups," Horris answered, rolling up his sleeves. "And, uh, one teaspoon."

Finn nodded. As he filled up a spoon with the shaker, Horris stuck the plastic red cup into the flour bag. He dumped the first cup through the sieve, followed by Finn's salt, followed by another cup.

"I hate sifting," Finn commented as he smacked the sieve against his hand.

"I can do it," Horris offered.

Finn chuckled. "No, I mean, the chucks will just break up anyway when you mix it. No point."

Horris hummed thoughtfully. "Okay. Now we need… most of this butter, pinched into small cubes with our hands.

"No," Finn stated, already holding and clicking the beaters into the electric mixer.

Horris shrugged and unpeeled the butter. He cut two tablespoons off the second stick, dumping both into the bowl.

"Here," said Finn, handing Horris the mixer. He glanced at his nephew's phone. "You beat that up, I'll stir up the eggs and water."

"Okay," Horris agreed, clicking the mixer on. Finn cracked two eggs into a small bowl, and let the faucet pour cold water in for a few seconds. He then stepped away and opened the cutlery drawer. There weren't any forks inside.

"Where are the forks?" Finn called.

"What?" Horris called back, turning off the beater.

"Forks."

"Just use a spat."

Finn nodded and padded around Horris. He grabbed a spatula out of a vase on the oven, and beat up the eggs as Horris knocked the dough off the beaters.

Steadily, they continued through the recipe. Finn poured the eggs in the batter all while complaining about the thought of mixing up _raw eggs _and _butter _with his hands. Horris laughed along.

"That's why all the good chefs are buff!" he giggled.

"It's a pecan pie, Horris! I won't be buff after eating it!" Finn argued.

Horris laughed loudly. Finn sniffed. The dough looked alright and, well, like a pie crust soon enough.

"So," asked the officer, "Now what?"

"Chill for half an hour," Horris informed. Then giggled. "_No~. _I don't think I'm strong enough to roll this out, Unc."

"Okay," Finn replied. "I'll roll and precook this, you make the filling."

Horris made an okay hand and did such. He used the hand mixer instead of the whisk as instructed, but the result of the filling looked close enough. It was a bit lighter than it should've been, though.

Finn patted his nephew on the shoulder. "It'll darken in the oven."

"You think?"

"Yeah."

Finn held the bowl while Horris scooped out the filling with a spatula into the crust. Together, the two of them placed the majority of the remaining pecans on top.

"How long do we cook it for again?" Finn asked, holding the pie.

Horris checked. His expression dropped into fear. "Oh no."

"What is it?"

"We were supposed to put the pecans on top later."

Finn didn't reply a moment. Then he shrugged and said, "I'm sure it'll be fine. How long?"

"_Uhh. _Twenty minutes covered, forty minutes uncovered."

Finn nodded.

* * *

Half an hour later, Hunter had awoken and joined Finn and Horris in the living room.

"Any crime?" he asked hoarsely.

"Your hour-long sleep," Horris said with a laugh. "That's a joke, Unc!"

Hunter didn't have enough energy to do anything else but smile.

"The food's all done, Hunter," Finn said, "If you're ready for it."

"Good Lord, yes," he answered. "Come help me set the table, Horris."

"I already did, Unc."

"Oh," Hunter blinked, surprised. "Okay."

Hunter seated himself while Finn and Horris brought the food out from the kitchen. The pie still hadn't finished, but it seemed that both Horris and Finn were in a silent agreement that it would be a surprise. Ham, roasted potatoes, cranberry sauce, deviled eggs and a jug of sweet tea soon adorned the table.

Horris sat beside his uncle. Hunter patted his head. "Good job, son," he complimented.

Finn sat on Hunter's other side and folded his hands together. "Should I say grace?" he asked.

Hunter nodded at him, so Finn did so. A few minutes later, Horris, Hunter and Finn had gathered the food on their plates and were chatting happily. Ten minutes after that, everyone was near-finished. The oven horned. Hunter jumped. Horris and Finn jumped too, but more in excitement than fear.

"Pardon me, Unc," Horris said, quickly standing up.

"Just a moment, Hunter," Finn said, standing a bit more slowly. The two headed into the kitchen. A few minutes later, Finn carried out a hot pie. He set it down if the table as Horris bounced excitedly on his feet. Hunter leaned up a bit to look at the pie and couldn't keep a gasp from escaping his lips.

"Why!" he exclaimed, "You boys went and made yourselves a doggoned _pe-can _pie!" He laughed boisterously. Horris and Finn glanced at eachother proudly.

"D'ya like it, Unc?" Horris asked quickly, "Huh? Do you? It looks just like the ones you make!"

Hunter wiped his nose on his sleeve and nodded. "It sure does, son!"

"Do you want a piece?" Horris asked excitedly, wiping his butter knife off on a napkin.

Finn waved his hands to stop Horris, clicking his tongue. "It's too hot. Let's let it cool off for a little while, okay?"

Horris deflated a small bit, but Hunter patted his back and smiled at him proudly. Immediately, Horris bounced right back up.

So, a few minutes passed. The little family chatted on the couch. Horris shifted awkwardly every few seconds or so. The three of them were watching a gameshow and trying their hardest to shout out the answers. Usually Horris was right there, either saying something completely right or absolutely incorrect. At the moment, however, he was too nervous about what his uncle would think about the pie.

At the end of the first round, the boy rushed up. "I'm getting some pie!" he exclaimed.

Hunter cooed. "Right! Pie! I'm coming too, son."

Horris lit up as Hunter followed up into the kitchen. They each received a plate and a fork, and Hunter grabbed a clean knife.

Horris tried his best to cut through the pie, but he couldn't seem to pierce the crust. He grunted, but ultimately sighed and pulled the knife up.

"Want me to do it?" Hunter asked hoarsely. Horris nodded. Hunter took the knife from his nephew's hands and made the incision. "You were gettin' there," he stated, cutting one piece for himself and one for Horris.

Together, they two of them fished out the pieces from the tin and sat at the table. Hunter smiled at Horris kindly.

"I love you, son," he said. "You didn't have to make this."

"But I did!" Horris chirped happily, flushing. He tore his fork into the pie and took a big bite. As did Hunter. Hunter smiled again.

"This is perfect, son!" He exclaimed.

Horris was ecstatic. Finn, from the couch, smiled to himself.


	4. Tennessee Tuxedo

Tennessee absolutely despised being the zoo's messenger boy. However, Tennessee loved Christmastime. So, he was completely neutral about being Megapolis' Annual Santa. Not this year, though. Stanley had worked him ragged all of Christmas Eve, and Tennessee had a rather late start at passing out all the gifts.

Yak, Baldy and Chumley were all chatting in the auditorium, where the gifts were. Tennessee suddenly burst through the door, panting. He was trailed by a signature gravelly laugh.

"What's the matter, Tennessee? How's it feel to be Sandy Claws' little elf?"

Tennessee steamed and huffed. He grabbed another armful of gifts from the pile in front of his friends, not even noticing their presents. He then turned on his heel and faced Jerboa Jump directly.

"Keep laughing, wise guy, it won't be very funny when you don't have a gift under your tree," Tennessee replied.

"Good luck wit' that," Jerboa smiled, "I don't celebrate. I ain't got a gift in that pile anyway."

Tennessee, exhausted, didn't have enough steam left for a quip back. He stormed off while Jerboa laughed after him.

"You don't have to be so rude to him, Jerboa," Chumley stated as Jerboa's laugh faded out.

Jerboa furrowed his brows a moment, then started to laugh again. He padded over to the group and smirked, "Tennessee hates the cold, doesn't he? Being angry keeps him warm. I'm doing him a favor."

Baldy rolled his eyes. "Shouldn't you be with Tiger Tornado?" he drawled.

"You think Tiger is up at this hour?" Jerboa snickered, "He can hardly stay awake in the day, let alone at midnight-o-one."

"Twelve-o-one!" Yak exclaimed. "That means- that means- that- that Tennessee has been on his feet for nearly two hours!"

"Yeah, and he's nowhere near finishing," added Baldy, eyeing the large pile of metallic red gift boxes.

Chumley picked up two gifts in his hands. "We should help him out," he said, "Tennessee's always been a good friend."

"Good friend," sneered Jerboa. "Sure."

Baldy rolled his eyes, scooping up some gifts. Yak gave a small sigh. Tennessee then returned to the auditorium in a rush. He soon froze, however, as he saw his friends bearing gifts.

"Great," he sneered, "Not having to bend over will really do me wonders."

Chumley stepped forward gingerly. "No, Tennessee, we're here to help you!"

Behind him, Yak and Baldy smiled kindly. Tennessee sighed and slouched, his beak twisting into a smile. He then rose up and prepared to start giving orders. The three listened intently as Tennessee went through his sorting method. He separated the zoo into six parts, one of which was already full of gifts.

Tennessee clapped his hands together enthusiastically. "Wonderful! If we all work our fastest, the gifts'll be passed out by one!" The penguin then turned expectant eyes to Jerboa. Chumley and Yak followed suit, their gazes half-pleading. Baldy rolled his eyes, but eventually landed to stare holes through Jerboa as well.

Jerboa stared back, unmoving for quite some time. After a few more moments, however, he sighed and stepped forward, grabbing a single small gift.

"I'm only doing this because I don't have anything better to do," Jerboa exclaimed, rushing out the auditorium doors first. Tennessee grabbed the next armful of gifts, and the merriment was on their way.

Yak was the fastest of his friends, so he got the section of the zoo near the entrance. Baldy worked in the area around the Megapolis Woods. Chumley dumped off gifts near the nursery. Tennessee rushed between the creatures who bore cold better than he did. Jerboa drifted anywhere the wind blew him.

At 12:50, the job was done. Christmas was saved. Tennessee panted as he leaned against the outside wall of the building. "I could've been here til _Easter!" _he exclaimed. He stepped forward and entered the doors once more.

Yak, Chumley and Baldy all glanced anxiously at eachother. There weren't any gifts left, none that they could see. Still, they followed Tennessee, just in case. Even Jerboa streamed in, several paces behind.

Tennessee carried one last armful of gifts. There were only three, and he brought them over to his friends.

"I believe these!" he exclaimed, "Are for you!"

He handed them each a gift. They were all the same size, and wrapped in the same metallic red paper. None of the three could resist shaking their gifts. Yak's made no noise, Baldy's jingled, and Chumley's sounded like something hitting metal.

"And now for my gift," Tennessee said to himself. He turned on his heel and looked under the large tree in the middle of the room. Nothing was under there. He circled around. Nothing. He searched within the branches. No gifts.

"Gr-great," Tennessee sighed, "T...terrific."

Chumley padded over and rested his hand on Tennessee's deflated shoulders.

"I'm awful sorry, Tennessee," he said.

"All that work, and for nothing…" Baldy added.

"He-here, Tennessee, have my gift!" Yak offered.

Tennessee waddled slowly by them. "No, Yak, it's yours."

Jerboa stared at Tennessee intently. Usually his rival held some sort of fire, be it of spite or sarcasm. Occasionally Tennessee even held complete and utter defiance, depending on his plans for the day. But, no. Tennessee looked exhausted, and completely, totally defeated.

Jerboa felt his heart ache. That wasn't something he ever expected to feel for _Tennessee Tuxedo._

Tennessee faced Chumley sadly. "I'll meet you at our quarters," he said, his voice the most somber any of them had ever heard it, "I need a nap."

No one said a word as Tennessee left. The silence even held on for several moments after.

"We have to buy him some sort of gift," Chumley stated. "But I don't know how to get out of the zoo without him."

"I do," Baldy claimed, "But I don't have the money to buy him anything."

"What- what are we gonna do?" Yak panted.

Jerboa sighed, loudly, making sure the three of them heard it. They all faced him angrily, surely expecting a rude quip about how he'd done something better. Fortunately, Jerboa was still feeling a bit of whiplash from the wave of sympathy Tennessee slapped him with.

"Just- go home," he said, "I'm see Santa will bring him something."

But Jerboa didn't believe in Santa, and he wasn't sure any of the others did either. Still, the three left sadly back to their quarters. Jerboa stayed in the dark room for a bit.

Jerboa didn't believe in Santa Claus; but Jerboa _did _believe in Jerboa Jump.

* * *

Tennessee was so exhausted from the previous night, that he forgot how close his bed was to the ceiling. He groaned, collapsing back into his pillow. Not only did Tennessee's entire body ache, now his head was pounding. Great.

He slowly slipped out of bed and made his way carefully down the ladder. Chumley was still sleeping. Tennessee stretched and steadily made his way toward his quarter's door to receive the newspaper.

At least _that _was working out for him. He grabbed the roll from atop a metallic red box, and unfurled it as he closed his door once more.

...wait, metallic red box?

Tennessee pulled his door open again. Sure enough, on his doorstep sat a long, metallic red box. He picked it up and shook it. Something hit cardboard. A wave on confusion washed over Tennessee as he sat down. _How _did he get a gift. The auditorium was _empty _when he left.

Tennessee carelessly tore away the wrapping paper. Under it, as expected, was a white box. He pulled the box open. Inside was a ukulele with a light blue body. Tennessee was even more confused. Stanley didn't care for his music.

He flipped it over to look at the back. Painted on the back was a nice, serene picture of a beach. So it definitely _wasn't _Stanley. Tennessee looked up the neck. Under the strings of the first fret was a guitar pick.

"...why would Jerboa Jump give me a Christmas present?" Tennessee mused to himself. It couldn't have been anyone else. Tennessee talked to Chumley, Yak and Baldy about music enough that they'd know you didn't need a pick for a ukulele. No one else was close enough to Tennessee to know that he liked warmth and music, but distant enough to not know about picks.

He played a few notes. "How did Jerboa Jump manage to get a genuine ukulele…" Tennessee muttered. He played a few more notes before setting the ukulele down on his lap and starting to read the paper.

He'd have to say something nice to Jerboa next time they saw eachother.


	5. Underdog

Several people milled about and chattered in Central Park. Gamma, a group dedicated to helping out abused and poor people, was holding a Holiday Fundraiser. Underdog, who the group had declared their mascot, had shown up as well. He had zipped around for a while and had asked various children what they wanted for Christmas.

Now, however, he was leaning against a tree swirled with lights and waiting for the children to come to him. Polly sat above him in a branch.

"You look ridiculous in that get-up, you know," she commented.

Underdog stuck his tongue out at her, though he had to admit it was true. He wore a felt headband of reindeer antlers with small, silver jingle bells attached. Prior to attending the fundraiser, Underdog had asked Polly to apply some blush to his nose in an attempt to look like Rudolph. Really, he looked more sick than anything. All of that, of course, sat over Underdog's stupidly large red shirt, pants and long, blue blanket cape.

He wanted to fire back with a quip about Polly's attire, but she looked much better than him. She usually did, though. That night Polly was wearing a short, red dress with white trimmings and black leggings. Underdog snapped as an insult came to mind.

"You look like Santa's rejected daughter."

Polly blew a raspberry right back at the hero. Underdog grinned slyly and hopped up, gripping one of the thick tree branches with his hands. He pulled himself up through the V-shaped arms and sat on the branch opposite of Polly. Underdog steadily climbed up to sit across from her properly.

"_Ahh,"_ Polly sounded, "Who's a good, iconic Christmas dog?"

"Snoopy?" Underdog answered.

"Ooh," Polly replied. "Okay, you look like Snoopy and Rudolph's crackpot son."

"I'm that most of the time anyway, Ms. Purebred," Underdog answered with a smirk.

"Alright, you got me."

Underdog smiled proudly. It was later and chillier by now, and only a few more pedestrians milled about the plaza, admiring the decor or donating a dollar. A few people waved happily at Underdog. He waved back.

"I bet it's a pretty weird sight, seeing you so comfy in a tree," Polly said.

"I don't know," Underdog answered, "I crash into things enough."

"I said _comfy,"_ Polly repeated, a laugh edging her voice. Underdog laughed along, then he suddenly froze.

His ears pricked.

Someone was calling for help.

Underdog lurched forward out the the tree and floated in the air. He flew up, past the trees, trying to locate the source of the cry. He flew up a bit higher, and heard the voice call for help again. Underdog whirled around. Coming straight at him seemed to be a moose of some sort. Underdog jumped, then kicked the air and tried to get out of the line of fire. He was too slow, however, and the moose crashed into Underdog knees-first.

The flying moose, Underdog attached, came plummeting down to earth. The deer let out a deep whinney, and Underdog could've sworn he'd heard several more grunts and huffs, and even a man's scream behind it.

The hero's back scrapped against the earth soon enough. The deer grunted and huffed, their shoes clopping on the frozen ground. Underdog laid, dazed and heaving. Were those bells real or just his head…?

"_UNDERDOG!"_

That was definitely Polly. With a grunt, Underdog managed to roll and sit up. He spat a bit of snow and dead leaf out of his mouth. Polly skidded on her knees next to him.

"Are you alright, man?! You-" the poodle glanced up. The head deer snorted in her face.

Underdog coughed and beat his chest. "I'm good," he answered hoarsely.

The snow crunched behind them, catching both of the dogs attention. Both of them glanced up quickly, and abruptly froze in their tracks.

Above them, next to the deer, stood a rather round man. He had on a red outfit with fluffy, white trimming and big black boots. He also wore a floppy red-and-white hat, and half his face was covered in a bushy white beard.

"Is that-" Underdog stuttered, his eyes wide.

Polly assumed a similar face. "_Santa?"_

The man smiled and laughed a jolly, booming noise. "Why, yes I am!" Polly helped Underdog stand back up. Santa faced the hero. "Terribly sorry, good man. The skies are rather cloudy tonight, and poor Rudolph here seems to have gotten a cold. May I ask your names?"

He rubbed the reindeer's neck. Rudolph stomped a hoof and shook his scruff. The red light on his nose sparked and flickered out.

"I'm Polly. This is Underdog," she answered, waving toward him. Polly then reached forward and patted the reindeer's nose. "Poor guy…"

Underdog nodded. He offered the back of his hand under the reindeer's nose. Rudolph gave it a good sniff, then nudged his red muzzle underneath the hero's hand. Underdog rubbed the bridge of the poor deer's nose with his knuckle.

"_His nose has no light, there is no doubt; it seems his fire has completely gone out."_

Santa hummed thoughtfully. "The rest of my reindeer don't have anything to see through the fog, and the North Pole is too far away. We won't make it to all the good kid's houses on time. I don't know what we'll do."

Underdog padded away to think. Polly patted Rudolph's face and neck. Underdog put a hand to his mouth as he padded closer to the tree he had climbed a little while ago. Christmas White lights circled all around it. Beside the tree. Gamma was packing up their tarps, tables and lights. Underdog's eyes lit up as an idea struck him.

"_Hey!" _he called, rushing up. His nephew (of course, Wilbur didn't know _Underdog _was his uncle) and his parents were apart of Gamma, and happened to be at the event.

Wilbur was holding a big box. His eyes lit up as Underdog neared.

"Hi, Underdog!" squeaked the young boy.

"Hi," Underdog answered with a wave. "_Someone in danger is having a fright; would you mind if I borrowed your lights?"_

Wilbur glanced over his parents, who stood a few feet away. Both of them nodded, so Wilbur handed the box to Underdog. He smiled and nodded gratefully. Wilbur flushed proudly before prancing off to his parents' sides. Underdog held the box tightly and rushed away.

* * *

"_There's no need to fear!"_

A blur of yellow light flew past Santa, Polly and the reindeer. Rudolph snorted indignantly. Underdog did a twirl, extending his arms proudly and beaming. He wrapped himself in the Christmas lights and shone very brightly. Polly squinted against the dark.

"_Underdog is here!"_

Santa laughed as Underdog floated to the ground. The man stepped forward and patted the hero's head.

"Won't you guide my sleigh tonight?"

Underdog floated up above the team of deer to wait. Santa detached Rudolph from the sleigh, and handed his reins to Polly.

"He needs a rest," he said, "Take good care of him, dear."

Polly nodded, eyes bright in determination. Santa stepped back into his sleigh and adjusted his bag. Polly pulled Rudolph out of the way of the sleigh.

"_On Dasher, on Dancer, on Prancer and Vixen; on Comet, on Cupid, on Donner and Blitzen! To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall! Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!"_

With those words, the team started to run. The two deer in front hopped up into the air, helping the rest upward. Underdog swirled around them as they headed up past the trees and into the smoggy sky.

Polly waved up at them as they dashed across the moon.

* * *

Underdog and the Christmas Crew flew as fast as they could from houses to houses, and from countries to countries. In the early hours of the morning, most of Underdog's lights had burnt out and he flew himself back to Central Park with the day saved once again.

His ears pricked again as he heard laughter. Underdog padded his way through the park and soon spotted Polly and Rudolph, surrounded by a group of children. One of the kids was atop the reindeer's back. Polly was holding his reins and leading him around. The group gasped as Underdog neared. He waved kindly.

"Having a good time?" he whispered to Polly.

"I'm exhausted," she replied.

A few more rides later, the children and their parents dispersed, leaving Underdog and Polly in the plaza alone. Rudolph snorted and tapped Polly's shoulder with his nose. Polly cooed and scratched his scruff.

"How's your nose, boy?" she asked.

Rudolph raised his head and, with a whistle, his nose lit up red. Polly chuckled and scratched his face. Rudolph trotted away, hopped into the air and took flight. He circled around Polly and Underdog several times.

"Can you fly back to the North Pole?" Underdog asked.

Rudolph nodded, then scratched his girth like a dog. A single golden jingle bell fell to the ground. He picked it up in his mouth and deposited it in Polly's hands. Polly smiled. The reindeer tapped his nose to her forehead, and then to Underdog's, before he flew off into the sky.

"Man, merry Christmas," Underdog stated.

Polly rubbed her eyes. "I'm falling asleep the _sec _we get home."

* * *

Across town, in a different apartment, a poodle boy had fallen back asleep in his bed. Wilbur had woken as soon as the sun did on Christmas morning and rushed to his parent's room so he could open his gifts.

His favorite was a stuffed toy of Scorbunny. Neither of his parents knew where it came from, but they couldn't tear it from Wilbur's arms long enough to inspect it. He clutched the toy in bed now.

Around its neck, a silver jingle bell was tied. A tag was still attached to its ear. Inside, in a font so curly Wilbur couldn't read it, said: _You are the goodest child of all. Love, Santa Claus._


End file.
